No Children
by LeSkuh
Summary: A collection of short stories about various Hey Arnold! characters, pairings and situations. Some stories are romantic - others are nothing but adventure or character-oriented. Ratings go from K-T.
1. She Paints

**SHE PAINTS**  
(_lila | k+ | gen_)

Lila paints.

It's strange. Because Helga was always the creative one -

(and phoebe the smart one and rhonda the beautiful one and nadine the wild one and sheena the kind one, and yet they said that _lila_ was the perfect one and honestly, she never could understand _why_)

- but that doesn't stop her.

Not anymore.

She stopped fearing Helga a long time ago. The girl was honestly more bark than bite and she'd sooner defend you to the death then turn against you. Unless of course you broke the cardinal rule of _messing with Arnold_. Then Miss Pataki would proceed to beat the ever-loving SHIT out of you until your insides bled out through your ass. But Lila knew better than to go against Arnold anyway, that boy was _golden_.

Still, she feels as if, perhaps, she is betraying something sacred when she holds the brush against the canvas. Is it really her place to be taking something that shouldn't belong to her? Helga was here long before Lila had even learned to breathe properly. Helga's _always_ been here. Lila is little more than visiting, merely buying time before she can return back to real grass and a million billion stars.

(and oh, how she misses the stars)

Anyway, even if it's wrong of her to be taking something that she still hasn't earned, she isn't ready to just give it up. Because when she paints she feels so much closer to belonging, so much closer to truly being one of the girls.

She doesn't pretend to be good at it. She knows better than that. Her circles still come out lopsided after all. But that's not the point really.

Sometimes she spreads blue and green across the canvas for no reason at all.

(sometimes her eyes linger on him for just a little too long)

If Helga notices, she never says anything, so Lila imagines that Helga probably doesn't notice. It's not in her nature to stay silent when threatened. Helga thrashes and fights and is so much stronger than Lila could ever hope to be.

Lila paints.

But not as well.

Lila exists.

But not as strongly.

Lila feels.

But Helga loves.

And sometimes Lila goes home and paints blue over her eyes in the mirror, spreads yellow where her head should be. Because if Helga is the creative one -

(and phoebe the smart one and rhonda the beautiful one and Nadine the wild one and sheena the kind one and gerald the cool one and stinky the tall one and sid the scared one and harold the weak one and arnold the most loved of all….)

Where does that leave Lila?

(the perfect one?)

She looks at her make-believe Helga face staring back at her in the mirror.

And decides not to think about it.

---

**notes:** I still don't have many strong negative or positive feelings towards Lila, but I think that she can be very interesting. Also, she's really not evil. Manipulative? Maybe. But she's never been anything but nice to Helga.


	2. Come Down

**COME DOWN  
**(_helga/arnold | k+_ | _au - romance_)

There is something utterly horrifying and absolutely thrilling about having him in the doorway of her garage.

"W-what?" She stares wide-eyed as he steps closer. The sun across his back makes it slightly difficult to make out his features, but his green eyes stare back at her from across the room. She nervously wipes a hand across her cheek, smearing the grease from her fingers onto her skin.

"I'm back," He says softly, taking another step towards her and suddenly she can see all of him. And everything about him just seems magnified after all the years of separation.

Something drops into her stomach.

"_Why_?" She demands, regaining her composure. She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at him.

He stops, but doesn't say anything.

"What the hell?!" She's furious now. She turns from him and stamps her way over towards a large metal object in the middle of the room. With a huff, she grabs a wrench and slowly begins working to unhinge the side of it.

"Helga?" He asks hesitantly. She doesn't respond. He sighs and comes closer again, not stopping until he is right beside her, almost, but not-really, touching her arm.

"You weren't supposed to come back," She breathes. "You were supposed to get out of here for good. You were supposed to make something of yourself. Arnold," She turns her head to look at him and her blue eyes pierce him through. For the first time he can truly see all her years of suffering built up in the blue. "I wanted you to get free."

Seven years ago he had left her behind and seven years ago she had cried for weeks on end. Seven years ago she had cursed his name and had hated him with all her being.

Seven years ago she had let him go.

Because more important than their town and her tears, was him. Arnold.

She didn't want to see him die in this town, dedicating his life to a practice that no one even believed in anymore. She knew he hated the satellites even more than she did. That's why, when the letter came from the outer lands, she'd made him go in her place. There was only one pass.

She'd set him free.

"How could you?" She whispers as she wraps her arms around herself.

Unexpectedly, he reaches out for her hands and twines his fingers with her own.

"Helga, I'm not staying."

Something inside of her breaks and something inside of her heals, but she doesn't really know which is the stronger something anymore.

"I just came back to get something that I forgot."

Her breath hitches as he presses his lips against hers.

"You."

---

**notes: **Just a few things to say about this one. This was originally written for an Alternate Universe Fanmix over at Hillwood Guild at Livejournal. This fic in particular is set to Counting Crows' "Recovering the Satellites". If you're interested in the rest of the music/fic/art send me a PM and I'll shoot you a link. FFN doesn't like web addresses in posts apparently.


	3. Grow

**GROW**  
(_rhonda/harold | k+ | romance_)

He is growing on her.

(_bit by bit by bit and she knows very little of flowers besides the few things she picks up from Nadine's interest in bug diets, but she still wonders if there's a connection_)

The strange thing is that she had expected it to work the other way. She'd hold his hand and stroke his ego and he'd fall head over heels with the flick of her wrist. No chance, no hope, he'd be drowning in her. She was Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd after all and that had to count for something.

She had imagined it, her eyes aglow with visions unseen. He'd be smitten and she'd be on top and slowly she'd get him to take off his silly little hat. Bit by bit she would get him to tuck in his shirt and put on a decent pair of pants. Slowly but surely she would change his wardrobe, fix his teeth, slim him down and bulk him up.

And then she would have let him go.

(_he runs his fingers through her hair and trails them along her arms - he snakes his arms around her like vines and she's on fire_)

Instead, he hugs her just a little too tightly and when he kisses her, she breathes in the bitterness of chocolate-breath. He's too big and too small all at once. One time, he gripped her hand tightly as they walked past a graveyard and he quaked with every step. She tells him to tie his shoes and he scowls at her.

He isn't the perfect little pet she'd always wanted.

(_his breath on her cheek is moist and sticky, there's something humid in it and all she can see is a vast jungle running through her mind_)

He doesn't bend to her. And some days she finds herself forgetting to brush her hair. Sometimes she doesn't bother putting on make up. Every so often she'll order in a large cheese pizza all for herself and eat every last slice.

She is horrified to find that _he_ is changing _her_.

(_he kisses her until she bursts into laughter, his lips tickling at her throat like tiny little flower petals brushing softly along her neck - magicking the happiness out of her_)

He is growing on her and she doesn't know what to do. She was never meant to stay with him. Just fix him and move on. Build him up and then let him fall. She could still do it - she could still leave him.

She should.

But sometimes, just sometimes, as she lays her head on his chest while he runs pudgy fingers through her hair -

She thinks she'd rather stay forever.

---

**notes:** There is still not enough Rhonda/Harold in this world. They are a thousand kinds of adorable and yet so very neglected by HA! fandom. ;___;


End file.
